


Harmony In My Head

by IceTiger3000



Series: From Russia with Love [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Boys Kissing, DJ Otabek Altin, Dancing, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Punk Music, Surprise Kissing, nightclubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 20:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13531749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceTiger3000/pseuds/IceTiger3000
Summary: When the girl working the door at the club where Otabek is DJing in St. Petersburg thinks Yuri is Otabek’s boyfriend, Yuri decides it’ll be fun to play along for the night.“Yuri was in one of his mischievous moods. Damn him, Otabek thought, biting back the groan that was welling up in his throat, which he knew Yuri was trying to get out of him. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.”





	Harmony In My Head

**Author's Note:**

> Otabek has exquisite taste in music! I recommend checking out the tracks mentioned in the story, if for no other reason than cultural literacy. >.<
> 
> Thanks to Airi_J for helping to dress Yuri!

Kazakh figure skater Otabek Altin pulled his motorcycle up to the curb outside the club in St. Petersburg where he was DJing that night. The big bike crept to a stop, its roaring clamour winding down to a purring put-put-put. Otabek cranked the throttle on the handlebar grip, giving the bike one final loud rev for emphasis before killing the engine. The nightclub was an old brick building, which had light glowing warmly from its upper story windows and spilling harshly from the entryway on the ground floor. Looking over at the doorway, the man sat straddling the parked motorcycle and gave an exasperated sigh. He reached up and unfastened the straps on his helmet, pulling it off his head. A slight breeze ruffled his dark hair as he took his goggles off and tucked them into the inside breast pocket of his black leather jacket.

 

A lanky blond teenager stood under the bright light up against the dark blue painted wall by the entrance to the club. He stepped onto the sidewalk and grinned broadly at the biker. As usual, the young man stood out from the crowd of milling people on the sidewalk in his flashy outfit—black boots fastened with shiny, silver buckles, skin-tight black jeans with artful slashes working their way from his knees up his skinny thighs, a neon green shirt that was only a slightly more dazzling shade than the boy’s own green eyes, and a black leather jacket with leopard print trim embellishing the lapels. A black leather choker studded with blunt chrome spikes adorned his graceful neck.

 

“Yuri,” Otabek called out stoically. “You know they won’t let you in— _Orlandina_ is 18 and Over. I can’t believe you followed me here.” He sighed again. Otabek stood up and began unstrapping the padded black cloth bag that held his records from the back of his bike.

 

“I’ve gotten in before, you’ll recall.” Yuri smirked at the man.

 

The muffled sounds of harsh music pounded from the building, thumping through the cool night air. _Russia’s not the same as Spain_ , Otabek thought to himself, but at least he had a good rapport with the management here, and it was worth a try. When Yuri was in this stubborn mood, there was no stopping him. Otabek may as well see if he could get him in through the front door before the night ended with Yuri getting caught trying to climb in through the ceiling or something.

 

Leaning on the brick wall outside the doorway, a petite young woman stood, laughing with the bouncer. Her dyed reddish-black, wavy hair moved slightly in the soft breeze.  Tattoos decorated the skin on her neck and chest, working their way down her exposed upper arms—delicate butterflies and flowers, Hello Kitty, the green head of Frankenstein, a red skull, a pink bow. She turned a friendly smile on the pair when Otabek and Yuri approached, the silver ring in the middle of her bottom lip glinting under the overhead light.

 

“Hey Tatiana,” Otabek greeted her. “I was wondering if I could bring a guest tonight?” He placed his arm around Yuri’s shoulders, raising his eyebrows hopefully toward the woman.

 

She looked Yuri up and down appraisingly. “Sure,” she smiled at them.

 

“Thanks,” Otabek replied, ushering the younger man in through the narrow doorway before she could change her mind.

 

As they made their way into the club, she called after the DJ over the pounding baseline, “Otabek, your boyfriend is cute!”

 

Yuri turned and flashed the woman a broad grin, and then he pushed his way through the crowd into the wall of sound.

 

Otabek lingered in the doorway, fixing Tatiana with a deadpan expression in response to her cocky, raised eyebrow. “What?” He asked.

 

“Nothing,” she smirked.

 

“What?” He demanded again.

 

“A bit young for you, isn’t he?” she teased.

 

Otabek sighed, “He’s a little older than he looks.”

 

“Whatever—I don’t judge!” the woman laughed. “Just don’t give him any alcohol.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied. Otabek shifted his heavy record bag, turning and heading down the crowded hallway into the venue.

 

After making his way around the edge of the packed dance floor, Otabek opened the door to the tiny DJ booth. A man stood at the decks, his hands on the flashing, multicolored controls on the sound desk. He had chunky earphones wrapped around his shaved head, with one earpiece over his ear and the other resting on his neck. He wore a simple, white long-sleeved T-shirt and stylishly faded blue jeans. The DJ glanced up, and his face brightened warmly. “Otabek!” the man called out.

 

Otabek stepped up into the small, dark booth and gave a friendly reply, “Hey, Alexei.” He took off his leather jacket now that he was in the warm club, laying it out of the way in the back of the booth. Otabek liked to keep things simple; he wore a plain black T-shirt and black jeans.

 

Looking out over the dance floor, Otabek easily picked out Yuri’s light blond hair from the crowd as he moved skillfully around the dance floor. The small skater’s training showed as he easily performed graceful dance moves to the beat. The colored lights swirling in time with the music tinted the gyrating crowd in alternating flashes of pinks, purples, and blues.

 

“I’ll get out of your way and let you take over this last song,” Alexi said. “Could you put this record in the sleeve when it’s finished and back in my bag? I’m going to grab a few drinks with Tati, and I’ll be back in a bit to pick them up.”

 

“Sure thing,” Otabek replied as the Russian man stepped down out of the sound booth and left him to start his set.

 

Alexei’s selection that night had been his usual mix of art punk and glam punk. Otabek always liked to flip through the Russian DJ’s bag to see what he had brought with him that night. Otabek nodded appreciatively at the records—New York Dolls, Iggy Pop, Lou Reed. Over the club’s speakers, Richard Hell and the Voidoids’ track “Blank Generation” howled soulfully.

 

Otabek had decided on the setlist for tonight a week ahead of time—early 80s sentimental punk. He flipped through his albums, thinking through his song order: “Academy Fight Song” by Mission of Burma, “Another Girl, Another Planet” by The Only Ones, “Transmission” by Joy Division, “Harmony in my Head” by The Buzzcocks…. He wasn’t sure what Yuri would make of the music tonight. The unruly teen generally liked thrash metal with shredding guitars and screaming vocals. _Oh well_ , Otabek thought. The kid had chosen to tag along. He would have to deal with it.

 

Yuri made his way back through the jostling crowd and opened up the door to the cramped sound booth, squeezing in next to Otabek and shutting the door behind him. He had his own leather jacket thrown over his arm, and he tossed it in the back of the booth across Otabek’s jacket. “Hey, Mister DJ,” Yuri smirked playfully.

 

“Hey,” Otabek said back to him, still looking down, sorting through his record case.

 

Frowning slightly at Otabek’s turned back, Yuri asked, “Do you mind that they think I’m your boyfriend?”

 

Otabek gave a slight smile to himself as he cued up his first record on the turntable. “Nope,” he called distractedly over his shoulder, “Not at all.”  

 

“Good,” Yuri said. Then he squeezed himself in between Otabek and the sound board, wrapping his arms gracefully around the DJ’s neck.

 

“Yuri!” Otabek laughed in surprise, pushing a mess of blond hair out of his way. He looked over his friend’s shoulder, straining to see what he was doing on the decks. “Come on, the track is almost over!” he said, trying to sound serious, but failing to keep the smile out of his voice. He had to wrap his arms around the slender younger man, leaning into him to reach for the control knobs.

 

Yuri turned his head, pressing his mouth to Otabek’s ear, purring, “You’re not going to ignore your boyfriend all night, are you?” He gave a low laugh as he said it, slightly grinding his hips into Otabek’s.

 

Yuri was in one of his mischievous moods. _Damn him,_  Otabek thought, biting back the groan that was welling up in his throat, which he knew Yuri was trying to get out of him. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

 

Yuri laughed again, tightening the arms wrapped around the back of the DJ’s neck. It felt like when a friend of his had once draped his big pet boa constrictor across Otabek’s shoulders—slightly dangerous, but somehow comfortable. _Jesus_ , Otabek thought, trying to focus on the music. _I’m not going to make it through the night._ This was the Yuri he performed with in the "Welcome to the Madness" exhibition 6 months ago in Barcelona—the one who fixed him with smouldering looks on the ice that burned into his consciousness—the one who Otabek had dreamt about on more than one occasion.

 

“OK,” Otabek said, trying to keep his voice steady. He stepped back and took Yuri by the shoulders, prying himself loose from the tight grasp. “I have work to do. You go out there and have fun,” he said, nodding toward the door.

 

Otabek thought it could have been his imagination, but a flash of what looked like disappointment shot across the younger man’s face, just for a second. Then Yuri gave a teasing grin and stepped out of the DJ booth onto the dance floor.

 

Otabek played through several songs, feeling satisfied with the arrangement and how well each worked with the others. It was a good crowd tonight, and they were responding with a lot of energy. Yuri danced to the songs, showing off, always making a point to end up in front of the DJ booth, looking up to catch Otabek’s eye.

 

Smiling at Yuri’s antics, Otabek flipped through his record bag and pulled out the sleeve labeled "Welcome to the Madness." He knew he was crowbarring in in with the other more lyrical tracks in his set, but he also knew it would make Yuri happy.

 

He wasn’t wrong. When that first jarring beat dropped, Yuri whipped his head up ecstatically. Grinning, and then blowing Otabek a kiss, the boy whirled around and took over the dancefloor with his wild floor routine.  Everyone cleared the way in awe as Yuri performed an off-ice version of his exhibition routine to the song.

 

Tatiana stepped up into the booth, pointing to Alexei’s record bag questioningly. Otabek gave her a thumbs-up and turned back to watch to dance floor. Hefting the bag onto her shoulder, the small woman stepped over to stand next to Otabek, staring at Yuri’s performance in amazement.

 

“Wow, your guy is a real spitfire, huh?” she said to Otabek as they watched Yuri’s frantic spins and leaps, which were cheered on by the stunned club goers.

  
“You have no idea,” Otabek replied nonchalantly.

 

She gave the DJ a considering look, then ruffled his hair playfully. “Good. I’m glad. I was worried about you. You always seemed to keep to yourself all the time.”

 

“Yeah?” he asked, smoothing down his hair.

 

“Yeah,” Tatiana smiled affectionately. “You hang onto him.” She hoisted up the heavy bag of records. Then she stepped down out of the booth, pulling the door shut behind her. As the song came to a close, Otabek mixed in the next track, looking thoughtfully out over the kaleidoscope of swirling colors on the dance floor.

 

Yuri stepped up into booth, grinning, sweat slicking his hair to his forehead, his cheeks flushed pink. _God, he looked gorgeous,_ Otabek thought, glancing back down at his console. He adjusted his headphones, tilting his head, trying to focus on the music he was playing. All he could think about was Yuri’s arms wrapped around his neck and his lips back at his ear.

 

“Hey, I got some bottles of water,” Yuri said, handing one over.

 

Otabek smiled back at him. “Thanks, babe.”

 

He wanted to kick himself because of how much he liked the sound of that. Yuri _was_ just messing around tonight… right?

 

Yuri took a drink from his own water bottle then swiped the back of his arm across his forehead. He stayed there in the booth, lounging against the side, coolly watching Otabek working the sound controls.

 

 _Fuck it,_ Otabek thought after a minute. _Two can play this game._  He leaned over in Yuri’s direction, speaking up over the blasting music saying, “You looked hot out there. Almost as good as when you skated to it.”

 

Yuri beamed. He raked his hand through his long, blond hair and said back, “You look sexy as hell in here. No wonder people are always trying to get with the DJ.”

 

Otabek chuckled. Yuri always had to one-up everybody. “Well, good thing I’m faithful, huh?” he replied.

 

He turned back to his soundboard, reaching over for his bottle of water. He felt Yuri’s body pressing against his side again, squeezing back in between Otabek and the console. Otabek laughed again and took a swig of his water.

 

 _Damn, it felt good!_ he thought. Yuri had wrapped his arms around Otabek’s chest and was resting his head on his shoulder. Otabek didn’t know what was happening, but right now he didn’t care. He just let the beat of the music and the beat of their hearts against each other’s chests drown out any uncertain thoughts.  He found himself absentmindedly rubbing Yuri’s lower back in time with the music coming in through his earpiece. He felt Yuri respond, melting into the embrace.  

 

Otabek was surprised at how normal it felt, holding his best friend so intimately, as if they had always done it. It somehow fit perfectly into the flow of his routine. As the song was winding down, Otabek cued up the next record, sliding the crossfader over. The first song died down as he brought up the second track. He carefully lifted the the needle from the first record, picking it up off the slipmat and sliding it gently into its sleeve. He replaced it in his DJ bag and set up the next record, getting it cued up on the turntable.

 

When Otabek had finished and returned his hand to Yuri’s back, Yuri pressed tighter into him and swayed slightly with the music. Otabek made little adjustments to the knobs, listening to the music through one earphone. Otabek felt Yuri’s lips back at his ear. He shifted his bulky earphone on that side further back on his head so that it wasn’t in the way.

 

“I’ve actually been waiting for this opportunity for a while, you know,” Yuri breathed in his ear. Yuri’s soft cheek was pressed to Otabek’s jawline.

 

“Yeah?” Otabek asked, genuinely surprised. He hadn’t picked up the slightest hint from his friend in the last few months he’d been living here in St. Petersburg. He slid his hand under the thin fabric of Yuri’s T-shirt, continuing to run his fingertips lightly over Yuri’s lower back.

 

“Yeah,” Yuri replied, slowly turning his head, running his lips along Otabek’s cheek until finally, their lips were gently pressed together. They both leaned into the kiss, breathing heavily. Otabek tilted his head, and the two of them moved together in wordless harmony, flowing smoothly with both the music and each other’s movements. Otabek traced his hand further up Yuri’s back. He felt Yuri’s tongue run along his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth slightly, meeting him and drawing him deeper into the kiss.

 

Finally pulling away, Otabek looked into Yuri’s eyes. They were slightly unfocused, his pupils blown, almost swallowing up the bright green of his irises. Otabek smiled at him. “Hey, my set’s almost up. Let’s talk about this more back at home.”

 

“We don’t necessarily need to talk,” Yuri said, fixing him with the same searing look he had given Otabek during his "Welcome to the Madness" exhibition.

 

“Good plan,” Otabek agreed.

 

Yuri slid back over to the side to let the DJ finish up his set, wrapping his lean arms around Otabek’s chest, pressing himself into his back. Otabek smiled, placing his hand over Yuri’s hand on his chest. Lacing their fingers together, he gave Yuri’s smaller hand a little squeeze.

 

When his last song had ended, Otabek traded the decks off to the next DJ, hurriedly packing up his records. He and Yuri grabbed their jackets, and then they wound their way out through the dancing crowd toward the exit at the front of the club.

 

On the way out of the nightclub, Otabek stopped in at the front booth, his arm wrapped tightly around Yuri's waist. Tatiana looked up at the pair and waved to them through the glass window. She took a key from her pocket, and fished an envelope out of the drawer, stepping out of the booth to hand it to Otabek.

 

“Great set tonight!” she grinned. “Have a good night, you two. See you next Saturday.”

 

Otabek replied with a sincere smile, “Thanks—a lot. You have a good night, too.” Someday he’d have to find a way to repay her for tonight, he thought as he and Yuri stepped outside into the cool night air.

**Author's Note:**

> Please hit the Kudos button and leave a comment—it means so much to us as writers!


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